She grabbed his hand to shake. “That’s Finola McGill, my nan. I’m Morena.”
“Okay.”
“I’m Harken Byrne, and you’re welcome here. A rough come through, was it? We’ll fix you up.”
“I’ve got it.” Keegan came in with a tankard.
Marco darted his gaze back and forth. Brothers, sure, the resemblance was apparent in the strong cheekbones, the shape of the mouth.
“Ale, is it?” Harken considered. “Well then, as long as you remembered—”
“It’s a basic potion, Harken. I can handle the basics as well as any.”
“Potion?” Marco started to push up, and his rich, dark skin went a little gray at the edges. “I say no to potions.”
“It’s a kind of medicine,” Breen assured him. “You’ll feel better for it.”
“Breen, maybe they look real good, these three, but they could be sucking you into some cult. Or—”
“Trust me.” She reached up to take the tankard from Keegan. “We’ve always trusted each other. I know it’s all hard to believe, or even begin to understand. But of anyone I know, it’s going to be easier for you. You already believe in multiverses.”
“Maybe you’re a pod-person Breen and not my real Breen.”
“Would a pod-person Breen know we sang a Gaga duet while you got a tattoo of an Irish harp inked in Galway? Here now, take a sip. Or would she have packed the pink frog mug you made for me when we were kids?”
“You packed that?” He took a sip when she held the tankard for him. “This messed up my head really good.”
“I know the feeling. Drink a little more.”
When he had, he scanned the three who stood watching him. “So … you’re all, like, witches.”
“Not me.” Smiling, Morena spread her silver-tipped violet wings. “I’m a faerie. Breen has a bit of Sidhe in her as well, but not enough for wings. She wished for them when we were little.”
Morena sat on the edge of the couch. “We were friends, you see, good, strong friends—the same as sisters—when we were littles. I know you’ve been a good, strong friend to her—the same as a brother—for a long time on the other side.”
Sitting back on her heels, Breen let Morena take the lead with a cheerful voice and understanding eyes.
“She missed you through the summer, but more, she felt the weight of not telling you, her dear friend, all of this. Now, as her good, strong friend, you’ll stand with her, and by her and for her. As we all will.”
“That was well done,” Harken said quietly, and laid a hand on Morena’s shoulder. “You’ll feel steadier after the potion, and hungry with it. Such a journey empties you out.”
“I’d say that part goes for the lot of us. We didn’t come through the Welcoming Tree,” Keegan told him. “I had to make a temporary portal, and to add to it, only formed it to bring two.”
“Ah well, you’ll be starving then. There’s enough stew left from supper to fill the holes. I’ll warm it up.”
“Is everybody really, really pretty here?” Marco wondered.
Morena gave him a light punch on the arm. “Aren’t you the one. Well, I’m no hand in the kitchen, but I’ll give Harken what I have with the food. You’ll be staying what’s left of the night, I take it. There’s room enough.”
“I wouldn’t want Marco to have to go through again so soon, so we couldn’t stay in the cottage tonight. And I’d rather not wake Nan and Sedric.” Breen looked at Keegan. “I’d appreciate staying for the night.”
“You’re welcome, of course. Coming around then, are you, Marco?”
“Yeah, actually. I feel good. Better than good. Thanks.” Then he frowned at the tankard as he sat fully up. “What’s in here?”
“What you needed. Finish that ale, brother, then Breen will bring you in for the meal. Harken’s more than a decent cook, so you won’t go hungry.”
When Keegan left them, Marco looked down at his ale. “You and me, girl, we need to have a real long talk.”
“I know it, and we will. And the flash drive I gave you, everything’s there. I wrote it as it happened, right back to meeting Morena and her hawk at Dromoland.”
“She’s the hawk girl?”
“Yes.”
“Okay, let me borrow your laptop, and I’ll read what you wrote. Then we can talk.”